


His Dark Angel

by SpacePirateKat



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album)
Genre: Angel Wings, Better Living Industries, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 00:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14389989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpacePirateKat/pseuds/SpacePirateKat
Summary: Fun Ghoul experiences the beyond.I wrote this fanfic when I was 13, so many years ago when all we had was the Danger Days album. Hope you enjoy!





	His Dark Angel

"Go! I'll hold them back!"  
As a kid, Fun Ghoul was always told that the good people go to heaven. He hasn't been good. He's been himself. That involves blowing things up, shooting Draculoids ("For the greater good," he tells himself), and saving a little girl from BL/ind. Jet Star will keep her safe. Ghoul has to make sure Jet gets the chance.  
He steps forward, shooting the Draculoids. Pain explodes in his shoulder. White-hot beams of energy fly around him as he continues shooting. A second pain, greater than the first, erupts in his chest. His lungs and heart are charred by the lazer. He falls to the ground.  
I'm sorry, Jet Star.  
The Draculoids swarm out the door behind Ghoul.  
I'm sorry, Missile Kid.  
He can still hear the slinky-like noises from their guns.  
I'm sorry, Kobra Kid.  
Korse steps over Ghoul, gun at the ready, and walks out the door.  
I'm sorry, Party Poison.  
The world darkens.  
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.  
His eyes open to a clubhouse. The clubhouse they all used to play in when they were kids. The door opens and Party Poison looks out. He smiles.  
"C'mon in, Fun Ghoul," he says. "Everybody's waiting." Ghoul follows him inside.  
The clubhouse is so much bigger on the inside. All of the Killjoys are there. Kobra Kid's okay. So is Missile Kid. Everything's okay.  
"Where are we?" Ghoul asks.  
"Safe," Jet Star says.  
"Are we dead?"  
"I don't know, Frank. Are we?" Frank. Nobody's called him that since he was a kid.  
"You're gonna be alright," Party Poison says. The room flickers. Their faces switch from calm to worried and back. "You just need to come back with us."  
"Come back where?" he asks.  
"Come back," they all repeat. "Come back. Come back with us. We'll show you the way."  
The clubhouse disapears and he's alone in a forest.  
"Guys? Where are you?"  
"Come with me," Party Poison's voice sounds in his ear. "I'll keep you safe. I'll take you home."  
Ghoul spins around, but Poison is gone. "Where are you?"  
"Fun Ghoul." His friend's voice is kindly taunting.  
Ghoul desparetely looks around for the voice. Finally, he sees Party Poison. His back is to Ghoul, and he tilts his head, listening. His jacket is torn, and sprouting from the holes are two massive, jet-black wings. They are folded, making it hard to tell how wide they are. Ghoul approaches him, and he turns. Poison sees him and gives a cheeky grin.  
"Ready to go home?"  
"Yes."  
His smile widens as he hugs him. His wings unfold, each stretching at least twenty feet. Ghoul holds onto him tightly as they take flight. The sky above the trees is not blue, it's just colorless. There is no sun, yet his wings shine with eerie light.  
Ghoul feels his grip on Poison's jacket begin to fail.  
"Hold on," he says.  
"I can't." Ghoul digs his fingers into Poison's shoulders, trying to keep ahold.  
"We're almost there, Fun Ghoul, just hold on! You'll be okay!"  
His hands slip and he falls. Poison dives after him. "Come back to me!" he shouts. "Come back! Don't leave me! Please don't leave . . ." He stops his decent and watches me fall.  
Ghoul strikes the trees and everything disappears. He can't move his body. He opens his eyes. There is a mess of tubes going into his left arm. He's in a bed. Not a hospital bed, thank God. BL/ind hasn't gotten him yet. He looks at his right arm, suddenly aware that someone's holding it.  
"Come back," Party Poison says, his head down. "Please come back to me."  
Ghoul lifts his arm out of Poison's grasp to stroke his red hair. Ghoul's dark angel lifts his tearstained face in shock. "Y-you're awake!" he says.  
"Yeah," he rasps. "You called me back."  
Ghoul can see the burn scar on Poison's chin from the wound that almost killed him. He looks down at his own chest, at the stark white bandage covering most of it, and lifts his other arm, trying to touch where the beam went in. Poison grabs Ghoul's hand.  
"You don't want to mess with that," he says. "Doctor D had to put in a pacemaker and two artificial lungs. You're still healing."  
Doctor Death Defying's place. That's where they are. Ghoul can hear him in the other room announcing the next song.  
"He messed up my tattoo," Ghoul complains.  
Party Poison shrugs. "He had no choice."  
"How long was I out?" Ghoul asks.  
"A month and a half," Party Poison says, getting up and sticking his head into the adjoining room to tell the doctor Ghoul's awake.  
"Good news, Killjoys," Doctor D says. "It's alive! I repeat: it is alive! Now for the traffic with Jet Star . . ." Jet Star takes over. It sounds like he's in Battery City. Party Poison returns to Ghoul's bedside.  
"They're-" Ghoul starts.  
"Fine," Poison says. "They're all fine."  
"Missile Kid?"  
"She's with Kobra Kid in Novi City." Novi City. One of the last truly safe places for Killjoys.  
"You gave us quite a scare, Ghoul." The doctor's imposing figure fills the doorway. "Almost thought you wouldn't make it."  
Ghoul finds the strength to smile. "I've always been one for beating the odds."  
"Well, you came close to losing to them," he says. "There was no saving your heart or lungs, so I put in artificial replacements. You won't be able to exert yourself very much, and they'll need replacing every three years or so."  
He takes in two long breaths, feeling a small mechanical click with each inhalation. "Okay."  
"Party Poison's volunteered to keep an eye on you while you recouperate." Doctor D nods to the redheaded man at my bedside.  
"At least I don't need to run to fire my bazooka," Ghoul jokes.  
"Oh! That reminds me," Party Poison says, reaching into his pocket. "Missile Kid wanted me to give you this-" in his hand is a keychain that displays a photo of her and Ghoul "-to go with your collection."  
"Is it here?" he asks.  
"Yeah." He leaves the room for a moment, then returns with Ghoul's beloved bazooka. He sets it down on the bed beside him and he tugs it closer. He's still pretty doped up from the pain meds, so his hands are clumsy as he tries to hook the keychain onto the little loop that already holds six others. Poison reaches over and helps. The simplicity of pulling the heavy weapon higher up on my bed has tired Ghoul out, and he drops his head back onto the pillow, breathing heavily.  
"You should get some rest," Doctor D says.  
Ghoul can already feel himself drifting off. His eyelids are heavy as he leans his head against the cool metal barrel of the bazooka.  
"I'll be here when you wake up," Party Poison says, brushing a piece of hair off of Ghoul's face.  
"I know you will," he mumbles.  
Ghoul drifts off as Doctor D returns to the microphone. His dark angel leans back in his chair, watching him.  
"Have a good sleep, Frank."  



End file.
